Jaṅgala bhāvanā
by thesabretoothedunicorn
Summary: One shot involving Krishan before he was found by Ren and Kelsey


Kishan had all but given up on being a human. He kept to his black tiger form for months at a time only changing to pluck a fruit from the trees of his jungle home. It was a lonely existence living between two worlds one of the tiger and one of men. He used to fight hard for his humanity. Taking the time to cook his food over a fire and drink from his cupped hands but he had long since grown out of those habits. He had precious little time as a human so he did not want to waste it so he would instead transform to walk round the forest upright and proud, but he covered more ground on all fours.

Now there was no point, he didn't know any humans and he couldn't reveal his curse to anyone incase they thought him a daemon or some evil spirit.

It was a lonesome existence which was why the tiger form suited him better as tigers live solitary lives. Recently though there was something new to get him out of his cave, something to have interest in and look forward to seeing.

For within the small area of forest Kishan had claimed for his own there lived a tigress and her cub. She was feisty and would usually have driven away any other tiger that came near her and her young however she could tell Kishan was not a normal tiger whether it was his black pelt, his scent or some other scent he didn't know but this tigress did not see him as a threat and would tolerate his presence. Perhaps she felt he would provide extra protection, that was what Kishan liked to think anyway and with this in mind he took it upon himself to look out for them. He had even gone so far as to give them food and in turn they grew closer to him.

Recently the mother had allowed her cub to play with Kishan, climbing all over him and pulling at his ears. Kishan would tease the cub back baiting him with his tail. All the time the mother watched anxiously, it was not in her nature to share anything let alone have help to raise her offspring but Kishan was not a product of nature. It gave Kishan a sense of purpose, something to distract him from his over whelming despair. This was the only thing that he felt made his life worth living and he would do all he could to keep them safe and happy.

He noticed the mother was looking a bit thin so decided to hunt for them. Nearly three hundred years of experience made Kishan a truly exceptional hunter, he almost always brought something down.

He had spotted his target, a huge male. If Kishan was going to feed himself and the other he was going to have to put in the extra effort.

Silently he crouched low to the ground eyes fixed on the buck who was busy rubbing the layer of velvet off his antlers. The bark scraping off the tree as the buck rubbed his antlers gave Kishan perfect cover to stalk nearer.

The deer raised head wearily his huge black eyes gazing around, though Kishan knew he was looking around out of habit rather then because he suspected a hunter was present. He tilted his head again to resume his scratching when Kishan pounced.

However he had been so intent on not startling the deer he had not noticed the ditch just in front of it and all his legs jarred from the unexpected impact. The deer was fleeing but all was not yet lost. He tour after it claws outstretched. He managed to grasp its rear bringing it crashing down. It was still thrashing desperate to escape. Kishan tried to get nearer its throat when with a burst of adrenaline fuelled strength it thrashed its head one of prongs of its new antlers stabbing into Kishan's shoulder. He roared in pain as he staggered back allowing the deer to sprint away into the forest.

But the buck was injured and Kishan knew it would not last much longer so ignoring his injury he gave chase again. Less then five minutes later he had made the kill. Fortunately the tigress's territory was not very far to haul it. Only when he had dropped it in there clearing did he examine his wound. During the peak of the hunt he had ignored the pain but now he had stopped he could see the extent of the damage. He would have to lie low for a while so he gorged on the kill with the other tigers.

The cub had only recently been weaned from milk but not all of his adult teeth had come through so he took much longer to eat. But there was plenty for the three of them and even some that could be consumed later.

Contented that the family would not starve Kishan left them too it limping heavily from the clearing back to his cave.

He'd claimed this shelter years ago and over that time Kishan had added so much too it that it was really quite comfortable. A rush floor he had woven together, packed mud that had now hardened or all the gaps in the rocks and even a little canopy he had made of wood and leaves which was propped up by three tall rocks outside the cave entrance. It was nothing like the luxury of the palaces he had once lived him and even some hermits might turn there noses up at it but for Kishan it was safe and welcoming like a home should be.

He had to stay in the cave for well over a week, it wound was deep and sore but fortunately not infected due to the antiseptic with in the tiger saliva. It made it very painful to move and only hunger drove him from the cave.

He wasn't up to hunting and hoped he would find something to scavenge and to his delight he did find the remains of a leopard kill, this was one of those times he had to submit to the wild instinctual side of himself otherwise he would not have touched it.

Mildly sated Kishan decided to check in on the tigers, he had left them for longer then this before but he felt that the walk would do him good.

He arrived at there usual clearing to find they were not there. Sniffing the air he could tell they had not been there for a few days. Possibly they had moved closer to better hunting grounds. He breathed in the air again sifting out there scents trying to discern where they had been. He ambled for the rest of the day until the pain in his shoulder became too much so that he had to return to his cave.

He continued his search the next day and the next staying out all night instead of returning to the cave. The scents were growing fainter and fainter and Kishan had grown more anxious. Had another male found them? Male tigers usually killed cubs that were not there own which was one reason why the tigress had been so ferocious when driving him away. Foreboding grew again on hi third day of searching right at the edge of her territory. He had to be particularly careful around here as villagers would often be seen gathering herbs or setting traps. He used to watch this village listening to the change in language and how clothing had changed, he had even seen a couple of people fiddling with a shiny box that played music or had voices coming out of it. However he had not been back there for a year as his longing to return to there world caused him too much pain.

Skirting past the village he caught a scent. It was faint but it was definitely tiger. He followed it to right at the edge of the forest where the trees started to thin and saw...and saw.

He stopped dead horrified at what his eyes were telling him.

At first he thought he had seen the tigress lying asleep in the leaf litter but then he had realised that her body was strange, it was flat and splayed out.

Her head was intact lying at an angle detached from the rest of her. Her skin had been ripped open and dried blood was caked over the rips. He edged nearer tentatively. He noticed that every one of her whiskers had been plucked out along with her once deadly canines. WHY? He still had not fully realised what he was seeing. He gazed down at the remains and finally noticed the reason why her body looked so strange and flat.

She had no bones. They were gone torn out of her and her body dumped and left to rot. WHY? Why had this happened?

He did not have to wonder what had done it, only humans would have tools capable of this. Why? Why? WHY?

He just could not comprehend. This had not been done for sport. The pelt had been left. Long ago back as a prince he had hunted tigers and kept there skins as trophies. He had now come to despise this repellent act but since he had never seen a hunting party in the jungle he believed that others had come to this understanding too. Now though it was clear the only thing that had changed was what was considered a trophy. A tiger's bones. Kishan's throat was tight. He could not look at her any more. This magnificent animal, fearless and beautiful, deadly and loving struck down and torn apart for greed. He dreaded to think what had become of the cub...the cub!

He stood up eyes darting around. The cub would not have left her side it was still completely dependant on her, but it could be hiding.

He made the soft huffing sound tigers used to show affection but there was no reply. Gingerly he pulled back his lips and stretched his mouth wide drinking in the air and making it rush past the more sensitive olfactory within his mouth.

He almost gagged from the decaying flesh, but he prevailed sifting through to find that cub's unique marker.

There was a whisper of it there but nothing strong enough to track with. The cub was gone and there was no way of following it.

He turned his attention down to the remains at his paws.

He would at least prevent her body from more desecration.

Slowly and arduously he dug her grave. His shoulder throbbed agonisingly with every heave of the dirt. He did not care. His pain, his discomfort was like an apology on behalf of the race from which he was born. For hours he clawed at the earth carving deeper and deeper his concentration only broken by a snapping twig.

He whirled his head around locating the sound, ears pointing towards it. Two foot falls, it was a human trying to remain quiet drawing closer to the edge of the grave. Kishan leaped out roaring, his teeth flashing in the moonlight eyes wild and mouth frothing.

The man yelled in shock and fear falling to the ground and cowering. Kishan watched him. He wanted to avenge the tigress. Kill this human and gut him as a punishment and a warning for all those who think about doing this to another tiger in his forest. But something stopped him, there was something wrong with what he was seeing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Jaṅgala bhāvanā"

The man croaked, at first Kishan did not understand him, it had been a long time since he had heard his mother tongue and it had changed a great deal over those centuries.

He was trembling but starring back at him in awe. Then Kishan realised he did not look like a regular tiger, No tiger had ebony fur with jet black strips or amber eyes quite so piercing. The man must think he was a spirit of the forest.

The man made to get up and flee but Kishan snarled, causing him to quake.

"Forgive me please Jaṅgala bhāvanā, forgive me" he started to babble terrified and incoherent.

Kishan transformed before him into his human form. The man almost fainted in terror.

"You did this" Kishan's voice was like a rasp in the depths of the night. He pointed to the tigress's body.

The man nodded not taking his eyes off Kishan.

"You will tell me why" his glare was just as fearsome as the tiger and the man dared not disobey.

"I need money for my son, he is badly sick, we cannot heal him in the village he must go to a doctor. I am just a simple farmer I don't have the money to pay for the hospital"

Kishan's brows furrowed.

"That does not explain her murder" he pointed to the remains.

The man's eyes where huge he was more scarred then he had ever been in his life. Kishan surveyed him. He was thin, skeletally thin his face was gaunt, he did not look like a man that hunted for trophies.

"I was told there is a man in the city who pays for tigers, pays for there bones, there insides and even there whiskers" he was still shaking, he looked away mumbling the next part "There are other men in the village who have caught tigers and sold them, they make good money, more then I could make in ten years" he looked back at Kishan his eyes earnest "I did not want to kill, my son though is dying. I can hardly afford food and he needs expensive treatment. He's dying. He is my son, I could not stand by and do nothing. I knew there were tigers near us and I found them. I killed her and me and some other men took the bones." he bowed his head. "please please do not kill me now Jaṅgala bhāvanā please let me see my son again, I promise I will never harm the forest again just please let me help my boy"

Kishan stood over the cowering man but his fury was ebbing away.

"Why did you return?" his voice was markedly softer and the man's head snapped up.

"I-I wanted the skin. The man in the city pays for them too, but there is more risk but I am so desperate"

Kishan turned his face away from the man to hide his own feelings.

"where is the cub?"

"One of the other men in the village took it. He fed it and gave it water. A dealer came this morning at took it away"

"You mean he was sold"

"yes"

Kishan took a steadying breath.

"What for?"

"I am not sure" he confessed "Cōra said people want them as pets and they are easier to transport when they are small"

Kishan burned with anger again.

"Please Jaṅgala bhāvanā forgive me for killing your-"

"She was not mine, she was not anyone's...Go leave this forest be with your son" he turned back into a tiger so as to hide his anguish.

The man did not need telling twice, he sprinted away back to his village.

Kishan roared with fury and the sound reverberated around the forest so even the people on the village heard.

Tears of pain fell from his eyes. What had the world come to?

He returned to the tigress's body, very gently nudging her cold nose. He was not angry at the man, he could not blame him. Kishan knew what it was like to love someone enough to do anything for them. No what angered Kishan was the people paying him, what use would tiger bones be?

A chilling memory surfaced in his memory of his mother handing him a cup when he had been dreadfully ill and saying

"Drink this my son for it will give you the strength of a tiger, for it has the essence of tiger within it"

Medicine, that was what it was for. People consumed the parts of the tiger because they thought it would give them the powers of that tiger. He felt sick to his stomach. Why did people believe this?

The tear streamed down his muzzle as he hung his head in grief. She had died in vain. She had been killed so someone could eat her thinking it would heal them.

He felt awful. Though at least, the money would help that man's child. When it was a choice between starvation or killing a tiger, moreover a tiger that could threatened you and your family the choice was clear.

It just shouldn't have to be like that in the first place.

He turned back into a human and picked up the tigress in his arms placing her gently inside the grave.

The thought of her cub hit him, the one whom she had thought so hard to protect, whom she had probably died trying to save. What life was in store for him? A pet. There were precious few tigers in his beloved India. They are a beautiful and majestic animal but they should never be held at the end of a leash.

Tears fell on her course fur as he wept over her.

"I'm sorry Jaṅgala bhāvanā" he said to the night "I'm sorry for what my kind has done to you."


End file.
